


Take it Off

by imastrangeone98



Category: The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Dirty Talk, F/M, Mild Voyeurism, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Sex, Vaginal Fingering, legit this is filthy, mild exhibitionism, takes place in season 2 episode 9
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:42:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27608501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/imastrangeone98/pseuds/imastrangeone98
Summary: He would never let the marshal touch her.After all, she was his, wasn't she?
Relationships: Din Djarin/Original Female Character(s), Din Djarin/Reader
Comments: 16
Kudos: 207





	Take it Off

**Author's Note:**

> im back bitches. I seriously don't update on here enough

"I don't like it."

"It was just a bad compliment," Kyla said, trying to soothe her agitated lover. "A useless catcall. Nothing more."

"I don't care." Mando's voice dripped acid. "He was _looking_ at you."

"And...?" she paused, still unable to completely understand his rage. "Most people look at each other while having a conversation."

"He was _looking,_ " he repeated, gripping her arm and pulling her around the back of the cantina, pushing her against the wall and leaning on her for good measure.

"Mando," she whispered, tugging on his arm. "If you're angry about something, just say it."

"I'm angry that he's _looking_ at you," he enunciated slowly, like he did with the child, sometimes. "He was _interested_ in you."

"The marshal? Cobb Vanth? There's no way that he-"

"He _wanted_ you," he hissed. "He wanted _this_." Suddenly, his hand went from her arm to- her cheeks flushed- her clothed core, cupping it in his gloved palm. His thumb slipped just under her shirt, stroking her soft skin.

Her mouth felt dry.

"But he can't have it," Mando whispered, his voice now as soft as silk. "He'll never have it. After all, it's _mine_ , isn't it?"

She whimpered.

With an amused hum, he raised a gloved hand to her face, pushing a digit against her lips. "Bite."

Equal parts arousal and embarrassment flooded through her veins, and she looked around for any signs of people. "Here? Now?"

" _Bite_." His tone was clear: **now.**

So without another word, she bit the tip of his glove, and with the taste of blaster gas and leather on her tongue, she watched as he pulled his hand out and further stuffed the glove into her mouth.

"There we go," he mused, gently patting her cheek. "Nice and quiet. We don't want any... _visitors,_ do we?"

As he spoke, his fingers pushed past the hem of her pants, nudged aside the flimsy fabric of her panties, brushed against her slick entrance, forcing a muffled moan from her throat.

"Look at that," Din sighed, pleasure embedded in every syllable. "So soft. So wet. And it's all for me, isn't it, sweet girl?"

Kyla grunted, one hand grasping his wrist, and the other scrambling for purchase on the cantina wall, only fo this free hand to pin it to the wall, lacing their fingers together.

"And you're only getting wetter," he marveled, rubbing at her clit and spreading her slick over her folds. Slipping one, two, three fingers inside her. "You like this? Like that people could be hearing? That _he_ could be watching?" He pressed against her further, his helmet reflecting the neediness on her face.

Her throat hurt with the useless efforts of trying to reply. She shook her head, but he kept going.

"Maybe I should take this off." He tugged at the glove in her mouth. "Let him hear those pretty noises you make. Let him see how well you're getting stuffed by _my_ fingers. Maybe I'll fuck you in front of him, too. Have him watch you scream _my_ name while you take _my_ cock all the way inside, like you always do. Have him watch you leak of _my_ cum."

Kyla could do nothing but wail, squeezing his wrist while her eyes rolled in the back of her head, basking in the consuming pleasure of her orgasm.

"He'll just have to watch," he murmured, pressing his helmeted forehead against hers, "knowing that you're not his to touch. Knowing that I'd never let him touch you. Knowing that you're _mine_."

After one last indulgent stroke of his fingers, he pulled them out. They were soaked to the knuckles with her slick, and they glistened in the dim moonlight.

"My _cyar'ika,_ " he cooed before taking the glove out of her mouth.

She breathed, still weak in the knees, and she leaned on him gratefully.

"Yours," she rasped.

And under the helmet, Mando's lips curled up in a victorious smile.


End file.
